


Fawn

by Riotangel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hannistag, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Will, M/M, Other, Stag Hannibal Lecter, Stag will graham, hunting accidents lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riotangel/pseuds/Riotangel
Summary: Based on Camille Flying Rotten's Hannistag, Hannibal accidentally injures Will, having mistaken him for a Stag.





	Fawn

The day Will fell was like any other. Cool, crisp, misty. It was a lovely morning, his feet softly padding under crushed leaves, branches rustling out of his den. There was fog, sprouts, and it wasn’t too late in the morning to miss the last glimpse of sunrise. Will always woke at this time, whether he’d make it out of his den, soft nest, was another story. He’d never really grown out of that fawn like phase of daytime naps and sleeping in.   
Unknown to Will, it was deer season. No one else was truly like him, no one could warn him of the dangers. He’d known several other fawns in his childhood who he’d play with, his parents disappearing from his life over ten years ago. What would that make him? Twenty years old maybe? He rarely thought about it, much too lost in his own head to truly process anymore or become lonely- especially with the friends he had now. Birds, foxes. No one else like himself though. No one with antlers sprouting from hair like his curls, no one with soft doe ears and a completely bipedal body. No one with hands like his that could do delicately trace, grab, hold and create. No creature in the forest who had such powerful thighs, calves and feet. He was fine with this, learned to live, to thrive. It seemed everlasting. Like a dream, that was quiet until this morning when another door opened. Quite loudly.   
It was an honest mistake on Hannibal Lecter’s part, a rustle in the bushes and a flash of antlers, you shoot. He wanted fresh venison anyway- the local mailman had shown himself to be quite polite. He shot, waited as per usual. His ears rang, and his head snapped around when he heard a sudden, pained, fearful shriek, and he knew it was in some sort of horrific pain. He’d heard it more times than he would ever confess. It was like a wounded animal, but also quite human like- only human vocal chords could cry out in such a pitch. Hannibal knew that if it indeed was a person, he’d be in- for lack of a better term- deep shit. The gun was put on safety and clattered to the ground in seconds, hearing soft gasps and whimpers, louder and louder. Guilt pooled deep in Hannibal’s stomach, (which quite frankly didn’t often happen) stumbling towards the noise faster and faster.   
Will wasn’t sure what had happened. There had been smoke, he had smelled it, he was simply trying to find the source when there was a sharp clap, then not even a second later, he was screaming in surprise at first, then agony, falling to the forest floor. Something hurt him, something had hurt him badly and he felt it blast through him, it felt as if his flesh and muscle through his thigh was slowly being set to fire from the inside out. Huge eyes frantically darted to search for any place to find shelter, crimson matting the patch of fur by his groin sand inner thigh, the bullet had struck right below his hip. There was nothing he could do, the poor stag could hardly stand let alone run. Something was behind him, leaves rustling. Footsteps.

Whimpers involuntarily escaped his lips, his body stumbling, and that’s when Hannibal caught sight of Will. Never before in his life had he seen such a strange, fascinating animal…animal? It was more human than deer, but had explicit stag like features, from the rack of antlers to the lamb like ears hanging in place of ears like Hannibal’s own. He wasn’t clothed, futility attempting to walk along. Hannibal was approaching rapidly, and Will was accepting his fate. It was true, the myths he was told when he was small. There were people who would come and take little fawns away, but he… he wasn’t a little fawn. As best as he could without falling over, the stag man looked behind him, and that was one wrong move. With sticky blood pouring down his thigh and hip, his foot hit a rock and Will fell with a heavy force. The collision with the ground was rough and definitely made contact with his thigh, evoking a shrill, pained squeal and near sob like sound. Hannibal was absolutely perplexed. Will couldn’t do anything but cry out when firm hands grabbed his back, pulling him. Will didn’t even bother looking back before feebly kicking his good leg and thrashing to escape the grip, but it wasn’t any use. He was caught.   
Hannibal noted this…thing…was shaking, clearly in fear. Lifting this deer creature wasn’t difficult though it was a dead weight, all Hannibal cared about at this point was getting it back to the cabin. Soft curls tucked under Hannibal’s chin, and the spilling of blood covered his hands and parka. It was as if Will had already accepted his fate, longing for it to be over. There was no doubt he was in agony, nearly numbed. Every second felt like years to Will, and part of his antler was most definitely broken off from the fall, sending a dull throb through the area it used to be.   
Hannibal eventually looked down when they reached the cabin, still believing his eyes must be tricking him, though here he was. Will was barely coherent or conscious, sniffling every so often or sucking in short breaths softly. Heat suddenly hit him and he realized he was inside- inside one of those buildings that he was never supposed to go near- holy shit though, it felt so much nicer than the air outside for his injured body. The next thing he knew he was on a plush surface, a deep, steady accented voice speaking to him, and another sharp jab of pain startled him back into reality. Will twisted his body, trying to kick, of course again failing. Pressure over the wound, burning aching pressure. Something about “disinfectant”, whatever that meant, he knew vaguely this language. It had been spoken to him when he was a child. Thickly accented “no” and “don’t kick.”, as well as “I’m trying to help you.” Could be understood by Will, who eventually calmed down just enough for Hannibal to wrap his leg, the bullet having left his body, clearly, as there was an exit wound. Will was panting, and he was obviously growing tired, so Hannibal waited.

He waited and studied him as his- oh Jesus, he was already becoming possessive- deer drifted off. Whether he slept or passed out, the doctor didn’t know, but he definitely was out like a light. It did give Hannibal time to study his features, absolutely fascinating. Plush lips, all human except for key features like that of a stag. Antlers, fur slightly around his chest and groin, floppy doe ears, but the human like qualities that no doubt wooed Hannibal a little. He could already tell that the boy had huge eyes, and his lips slightly parted. His build was a human average, a bit shorter than Hannibal himself, slightly stockier but that wasn’t saying much. Hannibal did have a rather lean body. Shivering soon set into Will’s body, and the other couldn’t bring himself to just leave him alone like this, so the cabin’s living room was the best choice. Hannibal had completely forgotten about the antler lamp and deer hide rug. Will was laid gently on the couch, a fleece draped over him, also to sort of protect his modesty.   
The doctor wasn’t going to lie to himself. This thing was a very attractive being, but was the intellect nearly the same?   
Will slept all night, Hannibal eventually retiring to bed around eleven, though he did want to keep a close eye on this deer boy. He needed his own rest and to recover from such a long day.   
The morning- or well… vaguely morning, at wee hours Hannibal woke to soft cries coming from downstairs the loft, obviously trying to be stifled. The entire previous day came rushing back, and he was trying to be convinced that it was all a dream. Carefully he pulled on his robe, the navy blue falling over his shoulders and tied shut. Will only noticed him when a weight shifted beside him, heavy and nearly comforting in his dazed and confused state. He was cold, terrified of the hides and antlers he saw. Why couldn’t this human just kill him already?   
Overcome with a sudden desire to protect, which surprised him, he untied his robe slowly, carefully draping it over Will. He looked up, big doe eyes meeting Hannibal’s.   
“What is your name?” Hannibal spoke slowly and watched the other pull the robe closer like a blanket.   
That shaky voice whispered “Will.” Deep, smooth, soft and fluid. So he could at least vaguely understand.   
“Alright Will, I’m not going to hurt you, do you understand?” Hannibal again spoke slowly, gently and hesitantly moving a tad bit closer, hand coming to touch Will’s shoulder. To Hannibal’s surprise, he didn’t flinch, just sort of leaned in to any comfort he could get.   
The human couldn’t deny how his heart melt in that moment. That lovely, ethereal being accepting the comfort. What then shocked him was the nuzzle he received, will careful not to hit the pretty human with his antlers. “Thank… thank-” he couldn’t finish.   
“Shh….” Hannibal hushed, letting Will cling to his arm, reassuring him, “Everything is going to be okay.”


End file.
